


Mrs. Hudson Strikes Again

by liebling



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, mrs hudson is not an idiot, outside pov, sherlock and john are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:30:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebling/pseuds/liebling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"However, she could not resist the desire to peek; and though she knew what she was doing; she still wishes that she didn’t have that particular image burned into her head."</p>
<p>Mrs. Hudson is fed up with her boys not seeing what is right in front of them. So she decides to take matters into her own hand.</p>
<p>Poor John and Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mrs. Hudson Strikes Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work so please do comment and criticism is welcome. A million thanks to my lovely beta sassybleu who motivated me and made my work shine.

Oh dear, her boys were fighting. Again. After living in the flat below them for a year she was used to the experiments and Sherlock shooting at the walls and yes even a fair bit of shouting, but never like this. The boys screaming at each other like they hated the other. Actually, it was John shouting at Sherlock with a pure rage in his voice. Obviously the fight was more serious than usual. It can’t be about the hands in the fridge. She thought wearily.

“Why can’t you leave my dates alone? Is it necessary for you to traumatize them with your experiments and body parts?”

So it’s about John’s dates then. Were both of her boys really this stupid? Couldn’t they see the truth that was dancing naked in front of them? John was not emotionally crippled like Sherlock, but he still didn’t realize the truth. He didn’t realize he was hurting Sherlock with all his dating and parading around with the women he slept with.

That’s not to say that Sherlock was any smarter. He maybe a genius but he often didn’t see the longing looks John threw at him. But anytime she broached the topic with them all she got for her trouble was “I’m not gay” or “I’m a sociopath”. Well, she was not their housekeeper either but she still cleaned and dusted for them didn’t she?

Both of them needed a nudge in the right direction, but both of them were so thick that the nudge would have to be more like a push off the cliff. So she started plotting a scheme, and soon she had a plan ready. She might look like a sweet old lady but she did run a cartel in the old days.  
She would have to be careful as possible. John could be fooled, but not Sherlock; he would know what she was doing the second she started doing it. She could only hope that he was willing to go through with it.  
*

“John, Sherlock? Are you boys here?” she asked as she climbed up, giving them enough warning for all the gruesome experiments to be hidden. Oh, how she wishes she was giving them a warning for an entirely different reason.

John was sitting in his chair reading a book, and Sherlock was lying on the sofa in his thinking pose.

Idiots. She thought.

“Good evening Mrs. Hudson.” John tried to fake a smile but he looked sad behind it. Of course he did, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“I need some help, dear. I bought a new table and it’s being delivered today, but I can’t get rid of the old one till tomorrow. Would you please move the old one to 221C?” shespoke to John. Luckily, Sherlock was not paying attention; if he had been he would’ve see through the whole ruse immediately.

“Sure, of course, Mrs. Hudson.” John looked towards Sherlock with hope but he hadn’t even moved. Sighing he started to move towards the door; she could see her  
plans crumbling down. That won’t do at all. 

“Sherlock! Help poor John move the table.” Sherlock looked up confusedly, so she carefully repeated herself. Sherlock got up slowly and looked suspiciously at her until she was sure that he knew what she was planning. She prayed that he would keep his big mouth shut. Surprisingly, he did. A wonder of wonders. Still glaring at  
her suspiciously, he started following John towards the door.

Now her old table was in quite good condition, not at all wobbly. And it’s still quite sturdy even after Mr. Chatterjee fell on it; though she takes the blame for that. But she wanted this plan to work and if she had to buy a new table, then no sacrifice was too large for her boys.

She went into her apartment and showed the boys the table to take out. Then she left them struggling with the table and went to open the door to 221C. The boys were now standing behind her as she shook the door and heaved against it. 

“What’s wrong?” John panted. The table must really be quite heavy.

“Oh it’s just this door; it’s always getting stuck; nothing to worry about dear.” The door finally open and she moved out of the way.

“Just set it there,” she pointed, “at the back of the room.”

As soon as the boys turned their backs to her, she closed the door and locked it. She then went quietly back to 221A and started measuring out some flour for biscuits.

“Mrs. Hudson, what happened to the door? It’s not opening.”Poor John, she thought; but he needed to sort through his issues with Sherlock. 

“Did you close the door behind you? You know, you’re not supposed to do that, this door gets jammed easily.”

“Well we know that now!” Sherlock whined. Oh that boy

“You boys wait; I’ll call a locksmith to fix this. Don’t try to break the door down or you could hurt yourself.” She left them there to sort through their muddled feelings while she started making biscuits. Biscuits make everything better she thought happily.

After 10 minutes or so, she went and told them that she had called for help, and that someone would be arriving in an hour or so. 

“I’m really sorry for putting you in trouble, boys.” At least this time she was telling the truth; she really didn’t want to put them through this, but they needed it badly.

“It’s okay Mrs. Hudson; it’s not your fault. How could you know about the door?”Oh John if you only knew the truth she thought.

“Ok boys, I’m leaving and call if you need anything!” She didn't leave, not really. She left her apartment door open so that she could hear if there were any unnecessary fights. 

And no it was not eavesdropping.  
But she heard all the things she had heard before, coming from their apartment. She heard nonsense from Sherlock and exasperation from John; silence, and once even laughter. But after two hours and frequent reassurances from her, she had still not heard a solution come about.

Until she did. The fight started quietly; John asked the question she had assumed he would never directly ask.

“Are you jealous of my dates?”

She ran to the door to 221C forgetting in her haste to be quite; but luckily, no one noticed. She put her ear to the door and listened. Still not eavesdropping she reminded no one.

And Sherlock, taking strength from god knows where, answered:

”Obviously, john.” Sherlock sighed sounding defeated, Mrs. Hudson, on the other hand, wanted to dance. Not the exotic kind, mind you, but a vigorous victory dance.

“Why didn't you say anything before you idiot?” John sounded exactly how she felt; happy and triumphant, though you could tell he was trying to hide it.

“You kept saying that you’re not gay; and I didn't want to lose your friendship.” How could the boy still sound so defeated? She wondered, can he not see how happy John sounds?

“Look up Sherlock; deduce me.” there was a moment of silence, and then she heard what sounded like two bodies colliding.

Then she heard something that made her heart melt. 

“I love you too Sherlock.”

Mrs. Hudson left them there and went back to her apartment to bring back the key. When she returned however, she heard sounds not entirely…decent; she unlocked the door quietly and left.

However, she could not resist the desire to peek; and though she knew what she was doing; she still wishes that she didn’t have that particular image burned into her head.

**Author's Note:**

> Err... i hope you guys liked it.


End file.
